


The Thrill Of The Chase - An Investigative Auror Mystery

by HawthornSparks



Series: The Investigative Auror Mysteries [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Mentalist
Genre: Banter, Crime, Crime Drama, Crime Solving, DMLE, Drama, F/M, Flirting, Harry Potter AU, HawthornSparks, IAD, Investigative Auror Department, Investigative Auror Mysteries, Mystery, RattleTheStarsAndPages, Red Ponies, Romance, SimpsonSortia, The Mentalist - Freeform, The Mentalist 03x05, The Mentalist AU, Thriller, Workplace, dramione - Freeform, dramione au, mutli-chapter, part 2 of 3, post—hogwarts, redeemed!Draco, the thrill of the chase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthornSparks/pseuds/HawthornSparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Investigative Auror Mystery, Part 2 of 3 / Dramione / The Mentalist AU / <br/>---<br/>"Interesting young woman." Hermione remarked. <br/>"Motive." Draco's eyes lit up as they started up a flight of stairs. <br/>"Excuse me?" She asked. <br/>"Junior Keeper is first in line to take over from Keeper unless there's a signing. Maxie Foxwood has just had the promotion of her life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Mentalist AU. This story is adapted from The Mentalist S03 E05 'Red Ponies'.
> 
> This is probably the most fun I've had writing a fic in a long time. Lots of research and cross-referencing. Feel free to check out any of the Quidditch references, they should all be legit!

 

"Oh, the thrill of the chase as I soar through the air  
With the Snitch up ahead and the wind in my hair  
As I draw ever closer, the crowd gives a shout  
But then comes a Bludger and I am knocked out."  
—Ingolfr the Iambic, 1400s Norway

* * *

 

\---

_DMLE Office_

_\---_

“Malfoy, you know card tricks right?” Ron Weasley called across the dragonpen of the DMLE, breaking the stillness of the night shift. “Teach me one.” 

Draco looked up from where he’d been dozing at his desk, coffee mug in hand. “Ah, Weasley. I’m not sure you could handle the complexity.”

“Oh, go on. If I can beat you in chess, I can pick this up, easy.”

“That was a fluke, and you know it.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Ron levitated his pack of Quidditch League playing cards over to Draco’s desk, Dragomir Gorgovitch waving merrily from the front. “Teach me.”

With a sigh, Draco stood, shuffling the pack with a wave of his wand. “Ok. Tell me to pick a card.”

“Right.” Ron nodded and cleared his throat. “Pick a card, if you will.”

“Nice flourish. Now I put my card back and you hold the deck to your forehead.”

“Er...” Ron said hesitantly. “No occlumency, right?”

“Weasley, I thought you wanted to learn.” Draco quirked an eyebrow. “Hold the deck to your forehead and envision the card I just took. Think about it very clearly and hold it in your mind.”

Ron closed his eyes and nodded. “Ok.”

“What was my card?”

“Nine of hearts. Nine of hearts?”

“Very good.” Draco held up the card. “Not bad for a Gryffindor, I suppose.”

“I’ll not take offence to that this time, Malfoy.” Hermione called, watching them from her office doorway.

“I’m pleased to see you’re learning, too.” He smirked over his shoulder. “Now, let me try.”

Ron took a card and returned it the deck. “Ok. What was my card?”

“Jack of Diamonds.” Draco confidently replied.

“Not even close!” Ron laughed. “I thought you were supposed to be teaching me? Looks like you got schooled, Malfoy!”

Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair of them, taking note of Draco’s barely hidden smirk. “Come on boys, we’ve got work to do.”

\---

_Charing Cross Alleyway_

\---

“Auror Granger, Auror Weasley, Mr. Malfoy.” The Mediwizard greeted them.

“Healer Caldwell.” Hermione shook his hand. “We appreciate you coming out at this time of the morning. What do we have here?”

Caldwell walked them over the scene. “Basic blunt force trauma to the back of the head, no doubts on the cause of death at least. However, the possessions of the victim are what’s most intriguing.”

“Oh?” Hermione questioned as they stopped at the body.

“He had on his person a ring, reasonably expensive, and a cloth napkin.”

“A napkin?”

“Yes, and this is most peculiar. The napkin has the words ‘forgive me’ written across it.” Caldwell passed the cloth to Hermione.

“And this symbol here?” She gestured to an icon of twigs bundled in a corner.

“I couldn’t be sure. I believe Auror Patrol are looking into it.” Caldwell told her.

“Not peculiar.” Draco said, peering over Hermione’s shoulder. “An upset lover. Break up of a relationship.”

“Perhaps.” Caldwell replied frostily. “Although I’m sure further analysis will be-”

“And the napkin is from Twig Clippers.” Ron added. “Exclusive professionals club. I used to go with Ginny quite a bit. Nice place. Fancy.”

Draco hummed to himself. “Ah, the case of the quick-tempered Quidditch player.”

“What makes you say he plays Quidditch?” Hermione asked, as Draco and Ron momentarily stared open-mouthed at her.

“Hermione, how could you not know who this is?” Ron gaped. “It’s Ulysses Greensmith! Appleby Arrows! Keeper of the century!”

“For someone so knowledgeable, it’s surprising you work so hard to blank out anything related to sport.” Draco smirked. “Mind you, I’ve always been a Holyhead Harpies man myself.”

Hermione bagged and sealed the napkin before handing it back to Caldwell. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, Malfoy. So what makes him quick-tempered?”

“Known for it on the pitch.” Ron bent down to examine the body. “Suspected of casting illegal jinxes against Pride of Portree a few years ago after the match had gone on a couple of days. What’s that in his pocket?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t spot it earlier.” Caldwell knelt down and unbuttoned the victim’s jacket. “It seems to be a playing card. Could be a message from the killer?”

“No. No way. Absolutely not.” Ron backed up. “You have to be kidding.”

“Does the Jack of Diamonds mean something to you, Mr Weasley?” The Mediwizard questioned, holding up the playing card.

Ron rounded on Malfoy. “How did you do that? How did it get there?!”

“Card tricks, Mr. Weasley?” Caldwell frowned. “A man has lost his life here.”

Ron threw his hands up. “It wasn’t me!”

“So shameful, Ronald Weasley.” Draco shook his head as Hermione barely managed to retain her professional composure. “So shameful.”


	2. Chapter 2

\---

_Twig Clippers Private Members Club_

_\---_

“Good afternoon and welcome to Twig Clippers. Do you have your membership cards?” A young and bubbly hostess met them at the entrance, the rest of the club hidden behind a thick gauzy curtain. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have a card, but I trust my Auror badge will suffice.” Hermione offered her ID. “Hermione Granger, Investigative Auror Department. And this is Draco Malfoy, my consultant.”

The hostess faltered for a moment before regaining her composure. “How can I be of assistance, Auror Granger? Would you like to come through to the bar?”

“A table will do fine.” The hostess ushered them in as Hermione took a seat, the hostess swiftly following suit, as Draco began to wander the magnificent room. “And your name is?”

“Oh how rude of me. Alina Lamb. I’ve been Hostess for the past eight months, and worked as a waitress here for two years before that.”

“Thank you Miss Lamb. If you could take a look at this photo for me please, and tell me if you recognise the man.” Hermione offered the parchment across the table to her.

Alina grimaced at the image of the blank, staring corpse. “I think it could be Ulysses. He used to date Josephine, one of our waitresses.”

“Have you seen him around, lately?” Draco stopped to ask as he wandered by them.

“Er, yes I think so. He was here, maybe a few nights ago? He wanted to leave something for Josie, but it’s against policy for staff to accept gifts from patrons.”

“Do you know what it was?” Hermione put away the photograph.

“A ring. Beautiful one - he must have spent a lot on it. And he wrote on a serviette as well.” 

Hermione presented the napkin. “‘Forgive me’? Forgive him for what?”

“I couldn’t say. But men always need forgiving for something though.” She sent a knowing look Hermione’s way and examined her nails. “He’s usually pretty regular but I haven’t seen him since then.”

“That’s because he’s dead now.” Draco watched Alina closely.

“Oh, Merlin. Are you sure?”

“Miss Lamb, you just saw a picture of his corpse.”

“Is that what that was? I though it was one of those Muggle pictures. Wow. Dead. I didn’t see that coming.”

“Could you put us in touch with Josephine, Miss Lamb?” Hermione asked. “What’s her full name?”

“Oh wow. Er, Josephine Darknoll. She lives in Yorkshire and Floos in.”

“And was she working last night?”

“No. She’s been switching shifts around his training patterns.”

“To see him or avoid him?”

“Not sure. I tried to stay out of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to ditch him.”

“What makes you say that?”

She leaned forward. “Well, he was always a gentleman when he was here, but something was always a bit... off. You never can tell with these things.”

“Absolutely right, Alina.” Draco remarked, standing up.

“Did she have any other boyfriends? Or patrons keen on her?” Hermione questioned.

“Not as far as I’m aware. Kept to herself mostly.”

Hermione nodded. “Well thank you for your time, Miss Lamb. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”

“Anytime, Auror Granger. I’m sure we’d be happy to grant you both exceptional membership here if you’d like?”

“No thank you.” Hermione replied, pulling on Draco’s arm as she spotted him reaching for a calling card. “We’ll be in touch.”

\---

_Hermione’s Office, DMLE_

\---

“So not much from the club?” Harry asked Hermione, glancing across at Draco lounging on a sofa, reading the Daily Prophet.

“Ron’s looking up the girlfriend now.” Hermione told him. “Have you had any more intel on the victim?”

“The Appleby Arrows will be a Keeper short this weekend.” Draco offered, hidden behind the pages of the newspaper.

“I know, Ginny’s furious.” Harry shook his head. “She says the Arrows have no hope now, but I’m not sure they ever did.”

“Always been more of Caerphilly Catapults man, myself.” Draco replied.

“Well, I’m glad that’s covered, thank you gentlemen.” Hermione tapped her quill on the desk. “But back to the murder case?”

“Ah, yes.” Harry straightened his glasses. “Appleby Arrows are managed by Tabitha Bramble. I think we had dinner with her once while they were trying to win over Ginny. I can get her contacts.”

“Weasley was a good player.” Draco folded the paper. “I’m sure all the big teams were after her at some point.”

Harry grinned, pride in his wife beaming from him. “Pretty much. She was always a Harpies girl at heart though.”

“Good to hear. I earned many a good Galleon from her goals.”

“I didn’t know you were a gambler.” Hermione interjected.

“Oh, I’m not. But Quidditch gives a thrill like nothing else, Hermione.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium_

_\---_

“The Arrows took their name from their old game celebrations, you know.” Draco Malfoy commented as he and Hermione weaved their way through the visiting crowds in the museum section of the Appleby stadium.

“Another useless Quidditch fact, Draco? I thought you exhausted them all on the journey here.”

“Hermione Granger, uninterested in facts? What is the world coming to?” Draco quipped.

She sighed. “Go on then.”

“It’s actually very interesting.” He continued. “The team used to shoot arrows from their wands after every goal scored. It wasn’t so bad when they were a bit shit, but it became a serious problem when they started winning the league. One of them pierced a referee through the ear during a Cup game.”

“Actually it was the referee’s nose.” A precocious voice interrupted, as a girl trotted over from the pitch entrance. “Can I help you?”

“We’re with the Investigative Auror Department. Could you tell me where I can find Tabitha Bramble?” Hermione asked, flashing her ID.

“Is this about Ulysses Greensmith?” The girl asked, eyes narrowed.

“That’s right.” Hermione replied. “And you are?”

“Maxie Foxwood. I’m Junior Keeper on the underage team, the Appleby Darts.” She folded her arms. “I trained with Ulysses.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Hermione offered.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Maxie demanded, not beating about the bush.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, remaining professional. “We don’t have a clear motive yet, I’m afraid.”

“What’s your guess?” Draco asked.

Maxie shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ll find Tabitha’s office upstairs. I need to go change out of my gear.” She stalked away from them, glancing back as she rounded a corner.

“Interesting young woman.” Hermione remarked as they headed in through the entrance foyer.

“Motive.” Draco’s eyes lit up as they started up a flight of stairs.

“Excuse me?” She asked.

“Junior Keeper is first in line to take over from Keeper unless there’s a signing. And as we’re near the end of the league season, I doubt the Arrows are in a position to buy any new players. Maxie Foxwood has just had the promotion of her life.”

\---

_Tabitha Bramble’s Office_

\---

“Ulysses was a good man. He was well liked. And a superb player.” Tabitha Bramble was an elegant woman, seated behind a grand desk as the Aurors took seats in front of her.

“What was your relationship with him?” Hermione asked, watching as Tabitha gazed out the window for a moment before turning back. 

“We were friends.”

“You have quite the display up here.” Draco commented, staring up at the wall behind her. “Classic snitches, Beaters’ bats. And is that a vintage Comet 180?”

“It is indeed.” She smiled. “You know brooms?”

“I know a classic when I see one.”

Tabitha stood, walking around the desk to the large case suspended on the wall. “It’s not allowed to be flown in games nowadays. But even in it’s old age, it’s still the fastest, most reliable broom there is.”

“And so similar to the latest Nimbus model.”

“Yes, they drafted the design based on this. It’s practically identical, but it’ll never quite match the Comet’s flair though.” She sighed.

Hermione cleared her throat, bringing them back to the reason for the meeting. “Were you aware of Greensmith having issues with anyone on or off the pitch?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Tabitha shook her head.

Hermione noted down. “What about his love life?” 

“Nothing I heard about.”

“Were they going to win?” Draco turned to her. “The game this weekend? Did they have any chance?”

She looked up at him. “There’s always a chance. Greensmith hadn’t missed a goal in training for the past month. They could easily have won, and with the right amount of points we would have won the cup this year. But there’ll be other games. And other keepers.”

“How long did he work for you?” Hermione asked.

“I’ve known him for years through professional Quidditch. But he’d only been playing for me for 3 weeks. I paid him a lot of money to pick up a broom again.”

“And where were you last night?”

“I was here at the Stadium.”

“All night?” Hermione frowned.

Tabitha straightened behind her desk. “Ms. Granger, I don’t know if you know much about Quidditch, but we’re bottom of the table. We’re struggling with a crippling debt, and I have Gringotts goblins at my door every other day. I have a whole lot riding on this next game. I’m not getting much sleep. And when I’m not sleeping, I’m here. Working.”

“Thank you. Malfoy, do you have any further...” Hermione turned, looking for her colleague, and finding and empty room behind her. “Draco?”

Tabitha smiled. “I’d try the trophy room a few doors down. It’s transfixed many a fan.”

“Thank you, Ms Bramble.”

“Anytime. The top box will always be open to you and your friends, Ms Granger.” Hermione returned her smile as she left the grandiose room. Perhaps Tabitha could start saving Galleons by downsizing her office.

\---

_The Trophy Room_

\---

Draco gazed adoringly upon the sparkling League Cups of past matches.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” A gravelly voice murmured from next to him. “There’s nothing quite like the gleam of Quidditch silverware.

“I suppose not.” Draco looked down at the short wizard. “Do you work here?”

“Oh no. Just visiting.” He stuck out a gnarled hand. “Cyrus Featherstone.”

“Pleasure.”

“Of the Wigtown Wanderers.”

“Ah, I see.” Draco turned back to the trophy.

“You don’t recognise me?” Cyrus huffed.

“More of a Kenmare Kestrels man, myself.”

“I see.” He grumbled. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair. I haven’t played a pro match in a few years years.”

“Early retirement?” Draco asked.

“Injury.” Cyrus waved at his knee. “It’s never been the same since. Can’t fly straight for whizbees.”

“Draco? Are you in here?” Hermione called from the doorway.

“The wife?”

“Something like that.”

“Malfoy, enough gazing at all this Quidditch junk. We’ve got work to do.” Hermione remarked as she found him in front of the towering case.

“I wouldn’t say that too loudly in here, Miss.” Cyrus narrowed his eyes at the approaching Auror.

But Hermione was entirely unfazed by the glares being sent her way from around the room. “Noted. Malfoy, come along. We’ve work to do.”


	3. Chapter 3

\---

_DMLE Office_

\---

“I just still can’t believe you don’t see the point in Quidditch, Hermione.” Ron shook his head as they strode down the corridor of the DMLE office. “The thrill of the snitch chase, the speed of the brooms...”

“Ron, after all these years, you know you’ll never get me into it.” Hermione smiled ruefully at the pair trailing behind her. “Or on a broom for that matter.”

Draco paused mid-stride and fixed her with a hard stare. “You’ve never ridden a broom?”

“Not since mandatory classes in first year.”

Draco’s jaw tensed visibly. “So you’ve never really flown?”

Hermione shrugged as she stepped into the interrogation room. Ron chuckled. “Don’t bother mate, the best of us have tried and failed. Greensmith’s girlfriend is waiting. You ready?”

\---

_DMLE Interrogation Room_

\---

Josephine Darknoll stood with her back to the Auror team as she let out a half-choked sob. “How did they do it?”

Ron cleared his throat and glanced at Hermione before continuing. “Beaters bat to the head most likely.”

“Oh Merlin.” She wept.

“Ms. Darknoll, are there any enemies you might be aware of?”

She seated herself back at the table. “No, nothing.”

Hermione leaned forwards, her voice gentle as she reached out to the trembling woman. “We’re trying to look into his Ulysses’ finances, but we can’t find a vault in his name, no papers or anything. Do you have any information that might be useful for us?”

“Uly was funny that way, he never did trust a goblin.” Josephine shook her head. “Coins only. He had them stashed in a mokeskin pouch he kept hidden in the house.”

“Can I ask how long you’ve known him?” Hermione questioned.

Josephine nodded. “November 6th would have been 4 years.”

“And was that before or after he left Quidditch?”

Josephine attempted a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, he never left. Not really. He was suspended from playing, but it was in his blood.”

Hermione paused. “Suspended?”

Ron looked at her. “That wasn’t reported.”

“No, it wouldn’t have been. They fixed a media blackout.” She reached for another tissue. “There was a pile up in practice. Broken bones, concussions, snapped brooms all round. They said it was Uly’s fault, but it wasn’t. He would never do that. “

Hermione leaned back in her chair. “That must have been hard for him.”

“Oh it was, it was a real dark time. All he ever wanted to do was fly. He struggled with his temper, that was a fact.”

“Was that why you broke up with him?”

Josephine looked away for a long moment before continuing. “The day Bramble approached him to play, we thought we should go out and celebrate. We were out on the town and a guy, just a random guy, bumps into him and spills his drink. It was an accident, no one’s fault, but Ulysses just... He just went at him. Like a crazy person. He really hurt the guy. Broke bones. And when I tried to stop him, he got mad at me. We went home, fought all night. I left the next day. I couldn’t be treated like that. Not again.”

Ron took out a pen. “Do you know the name of the guy he beat up?”

She shut her eyes in concentration. “Overton. Something Overton. Edgar. Edward. Something like that.”

“Josephine, when did you last see Ulysses?”

“I haven’t seen him since I left. He tried to talk to me, catch me at work, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to go back there and do it all over again.”

Hermione nodded, the desperation in the woman’s eyes evident for all to see. “Josephine, when he died he had a note for you in his pocket.”

“A note?”

Ron passed the small package of the handwritten note and ring box across the table to her. “Oh Uly,” She sobbed, “I should have stayed. I should have tried to help him.”

Hermione reached out a gentle hand. “You have to do what’s right for you. What’s safest for you.”

“Oh I know, Miss Granger. But still...”

\---

_DMLE Dragonpen_

\---

“Ok, so a guy gets beaten up pretty badly. He’s probably going to hold a grudge, right?” Ron suggested as he hurried to match Hermione’s determined stride down the corridor. “Could have gone back for round two?” 

She nodded. “It sounds like he probably needed a Healer. Have someone check St. Mungo’s admissions for that night and the next few days. Hopefully he went somewhere traceable rather than attempting to treat it on his own.”

“Hermione,” Harry called from across the pen, as she manoeuvred her way past the busy desks to him. “I had patrol check Greensmith’s apartment.”

“Please tell me they found something.” She eyed him as she stepped into his office.

He shook his head. “A mokeskin pouch was found, but it’s been checked out and it’s empty. There was no money anywhere in his home.”

“So that’s over 4000 Galleons just gone.” Ron huffed.

“Well they have to be somewhere. And that could mean motive.” Harry replied.

“Ah, there you are.” Draco sauntered in, barely looking up from an open copy of the Daily Prophet. “Tabitha Bramble’s still playing the team in the Quidditch Cup game this weekend against the Wasps.”

“Without a Keeper?” Ron asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Maxie Foxwood is bravely stepping up to the hoops.”

“That’s a big step up for a junior.” Harry looked to Hermione. “Do you think getting to play could be motive?”

Draco folded the paper with a snap as he turned to leave the office. “Let’s go and ask.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she followed him out. “Are you sure you don’t just want to wander around the trophy room again?

“I’d hardly say no to a detour, Granger.”

“Quidditch nerd.”

He stopped and fixed her with a hard stare. “Quidditch ignoramus.”

She grinned as she brushed past him, heading out of the Dragonpen towards the golden lifts, Draco following her with a smirk.

Ron stared after them before turning to Harry. “Oh, there is definitely something going on there.”


	4. Chapter 4

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium_

\---

“Get the hell out of my stadium!” Draco and Hermione were met by the raised wand of a livid Tabitha Bramble.

“Woah, hey, Tabs, no need to be so mean.” A slick wizard in a tangerine suit stood in front of her raising his arms.

Hermione ran towards them, Auror badge out and wand raised before Draco had left their apparition spot. “Ms. Bramble, lower your wand!”

Tabitha glowered for a long moment before gracefully stowing her wand away.

“What’s going on here?”

“This arsehole is here to spy on my team.” She spat.

“Babe, there’s nothing to spy one. I just came by for a friendly mug of Butterbeer.” He thrust his hand out to Hermione, his Texan accent strong and a wink in his eye. “Brisco Buckley, ma’am, Team Manager of the Wimbourne Wasps, the leading team in the British and Irish League.” 

Hermione shook his hand, matching firm grip with her own. “Agent Granger with the DMLE.”

He nodded to Draco. “Are you a Wasps fan, son?”

“Always been a Chudley Cannons man, myself.” Draco watched him closely.

“Shame. Takes just one bludger to topple a team.” He let out a hearty laugh. “We would know, after we thrashed the Kestrels a couple of years ago.”

Tabitha scoffed. “That was a lucky play and you know it.”

“Luck’s what you’re gonna need this weekend.” He straightened his tie. “A little girl on the hoops? Hardly a challenge for the best team this side of the Atlantic.”

“Leave it out, Buckley.” Tabitha warned, her fingers twitching towards her wand again.

“Mind you, it’s not like anyone in their right mind would have played Greensmith. Tabby here’s the only one that would. But hey, you can’t have winners without losers, right, pussy-cat?”

Hermione was prepared for Tabitha’s lunge at Brisco this time and had a shield charm up instantly.

“My Arrows are going to smash your pathetic bugs this weekend!” Tabitha snarled.

“Ok that’s enough!” Hermione shouted over the pair.

“Pride and love of the game will beat money or corporate plays any day of the week, Buckley! You mark my words!” Tabitha continued to thrash.

“Ms Bramble, calm yourself!” Hermione commanded.

Draco couldn’t deny the fire in Hermione’s eyes would have intimidated the brawniest of Death Eaters, as he watched the Managers shrink back from the Auror’s blazing authority. He also couldn’t deny that he found it incredibly attractive.

“We are here to speak with Maxie Foxwood.” She levelled her wand at them as Draco watched with a smirk. “Can I trust you will both behave like adults?”

Tabitha and Brisco nodded sheepishly. Hermione Granger’s skill and tenacity was not a story unfamiliar to either of them.

“Ms Bramble, where might we find her?” Hermione questioned them, her voice calm and deadly.

As Tabitha began to point them in the right direction, a scream echoed around the stadium from the pitch. Draco at least had the foresight to step out of Hermione’s way as she barrelled through the open doors towards the noise.

“Maxie!” Tabitha shrieked as they burst into the stands. The young keeper was dangling one-handed from her broom steadily rising above the highest hoop. “Stay calm! We’ll get you down.”

“Draco, prepare for _Arresto Momentum_ in case she falls!” Hermione called across to him, her own wand pointed up at the girl. He had his wand at the ready, but in moments Maxie had already hooked a leg over the broom-handle and righted herself. 

“Oh Maxie, thank goodness!” Tabitha ran towards her as she came down to an easy landing.

“Broom trouble?” Draco asked as he and Granger walked over.

She nodded, holding the broom out of in front of her. “Mine’s getting clipped, so I’m having to train on this old thing.”

“We’ll have yours back before the game.” Tabitha assured her.

“Miss Foxwood, we’d like to speak with you.” Hermione said.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should...” Maxie looked over at Tabitha.

“It’s ok.” The manager smiled. “You’ve worked the pitch enough today, go ahead.”

Maxie shrugged and gestured through the doors towards the canteen as Hermione smiled and followed. “Are you coming, Malfoy?” 

“I might stay here a while.” He looked out across the stands. “Soak up the atmosphere and all.”

Tabitha watched them leave, a frown colouring her expression. “Training’s hard on an unfamiliar broom at the best of times. Let alone with all the pressure she’s under.”

“She seems determined.” Draco remarked.

“Yes, she is that.” She sighed. “She’ll outshine them all eventually.”

Draco considered the woman for a moment. “Do you know much about Greensmith’s suspension?”

“Ah. I wondered when you might ask.” She took a seat. “Well, it was a few years ago, three or four perhaps. No one knew who caused it, although they blamed Ulysses from the off. Several players were injured, a couple of them spent a few weeks in St Mungo’s, and one never flew again.”

“Cyrus Featherstone.”

“The very same. Multiple broken bones, a fractured skull, and a splintered broom. Nothing the Healer’s can’t fix, but when your broom’s gone...”

“It can damage a player’s technique.”

“That it can, Mr. Malfoy. For better or worse.”

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium Canteen_

\---

Hermione stirred her weak coffee, watching Maxie from across the slightly sticky table in the players’ canteen. “With Greensmith gone, it must be exciting to be getting your big break?”

“I guess.” Maxie shrugged, slumped against the back of her chair and pointedly not making eye contact with the Auror. “Sure.”

“I’m sure you had an idea that you’d walk into the position if he ever left.” Hermione suggested.

Maxie heaved out a sigh and shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.” 

Maxie fixed her with a hard stare that Hermione refused to back down from. It was a long, tension-thick moment before she eventually leaned forward to settle her forearms on the table, gazing down at the plastic between her hands. “Ulysses was the closest thing to a family I’ve ever had. I didn’t go to Hogwarts or Beauxbatons or anything like it. My foster family weren’t interested in sending me to a boarding school, but I learned to fly real fast.” A ghost of a smile whispered across her face as she was taken back to her childhood. “A scout saw us playing across a meadow one day and they picked me up and that was it. I was schooled through the stadium. Uly took on a lot of my training himself. He...”

She took a breath, looking up to meet Hermione’s gaze. “I’d give anything to get him back but I can’t. Quidditch is all I have. It’s all I know.”

Hermione looked back into the eyes of the girl sat before her, seeing the weight of the world resting on her lonely shoulders. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

Maxie looked away, shrugging back into her detached persona. “I can handle it.”

“Then what are you so afraid of?” Hermione barely flinched as Draco’s voice questioned from behind her, coming round to sit beside her, his thigh brushing against her own.

Maxie narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not afraid. Didn’t you see me right my broom out there?”

“Mm hm.” He nodded. “Still afraid though.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, unsure where this line of questioning was supposed to be getting them. “Maxie, is someone threatening you? We can help.”

“I’m fine.” She slumped back into her seat.

Draco cast a sly smile at her. “I don’t believe you.”

Maxie heaved another sigh, doing her best to look bored with the situation, but both Hermione and Draco could clearly see the anxiety in her eyes. “Look, I’m fine, I can handle it myself.”

“Ah, so you do need help.”

“No. I really don’t.” She pushed back and stepped away from them. “Are we done? I need to change out of my blues.”

Hermione reluctantly nodded. “Sure. Thanks for your time, Maxie.” The girl stomped off before Hermione had finished her sentence.

Draco leaned back in his plastic chair. “Tough girl. She’s scared, though.”

“Of what?”

“Ah, see there’s the rub. What is a teenage girl who’s just lost her mentor and is premiering into the professional Quidditch industry, so scared of?”

Hermione stared him down for a long moment, doing her best not to be goaded by his smug expression. “And the answer is?”

“Well, I have no idea. It’s a rhetorical question.”

“Of course it is.”

“Actually, I do have an idea. But I’m not going to tell you. That would be far too premature.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood, gesturing towards the exit. “And I’m not going to amuse you by asking.”

“Then we’re both happy.” Draco remained seated, his fingers steepled thoughtfully.

She tapped her foot, keeping her own fingers away from her wand and the bodybind curse she was very keen to inflict upon him in that moment. “We’re leaving now.”

“Absolutely.” He stood gracefully, brushing down his suit jacket and turning away from the direction Hermione was pointing. “It’s this way I believe.”

“Draco, that’s not the exit.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it is.”

“That corridor leads to the trophy room.”

“Perhaps.” He strode away from her across the cafeteria, passing a sign declaring ‘Trophy Room, this way’, as she stared after him. Well, she supposed, she might be able to allow him a few minutes with his shiny cups.


	5. Chapter 5

\---

_Security Troll Training Facility, Yorkshire Moors_

\---

“You took your time.”

“Sorry, Ron.” Hermione called across to her friend as she and Draco apparated in. “We took a detour trying to find an exit at the stadium.”

“Sure.” Ron raised his eyebrows, a smirk in his eyes. “If that’s all you were doing.”

“ _Ron!_ ” She hissed, a slight blush creeping up her neck that did not go unnoticed by Draco as he watched the exchange. “Draco wanted to see the trophy room. Again.”

“Ah, so that’s what the kids are calling it these days.” He didn’t hide his grin in Malfoy’s direction this time.

“Ronald Weasley, we are here to work. Don’t make me discipline you.” She growled and stomped off towards the cave entrance.

Draco shrugged. “Don’t look at me, Weasley. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smiled slyly as he followed the grumbling witch.

Ron sniggered and followed them both, slipping back into professionalism. “So this could be the guy Greensmith beat up - Edwin Overton. He was in St Mungo’s for a day with a broken jaw, fractured wrist and a particularly bad jelly-legs jinx. He’s got a couple of disorderly conducts on his record so didn’t wait around for Patrol to interview him, and never pressed charges.”

“This is a Security Troll Training facility?” Draco asked, looking around disdainfully.

“I remember the pamphlet from third year. Fascinating field of study and implementation.” Hermione replied.

A nasty roar thundered up from the depths of the cave, bouncing around the craggy walls. Ron walked a short way into the darkness and tapped his wand on a moss-covered outcropping of rock.

A bored voice echoed back to them. “Sterling and Son Security Troll Training Facility, how can I help?”

“Hello, we’re IAA. We have an appointment with Mr. Overton.” Ron responded clearly.

“Please wait one moment. He’ll join you shortly. _Edwin! Oi, Edwin! Visitors!”_ The voice clicked silent, the shrieks and groans of the trolls still rumbling up to them from below the surface.

“Nice place.” Ron remarked, looking around at the dripping stalactites.

They stepped back as part of the cave wall began to open up, and were met by a short man wiping some kind of fluid off his hands with a rag.

“Ah, hello.” He nodded at them both. “Edwin Overton. I’d shake your hands but mine have just been up a troll’s nose, so probably best not to.”

“Probably for the best.” Draco agreed.

He led them away from the mouth of the cave as the doorway was hidden again from view,back out into the fresh air. “Now, how can I help you? Your enquiry said something about keeping ferrets out of a burrow?”

Hermione and Draco looked over to Ron, their perplexed expressions asking all the questions they didn’t need to voice. 

“What?” Ron looked back at them. “I had to make it convincing.”

“It wasn’t.” Overton replied. “What’s this really about?”

“That’s a lovely set of overalls you’re wearing, Mr. Overton.” Draco remarked, cutting him off. “Is that Welsh Dragonhide?”

“Romanion Longhorn actually. Is there a problem?” He eyed the Aurors suspiciously.

Ron folded his arms. “A man’s dead, several thousand galleons are missing, and you’re wearing a nice suit, Mr. Overton.”

Hermione stepped forward, trying to settle the situation before her companions’ lack of tact destroyed their lead. “Mr. Overton, we know about your incident with Ulysses Greensmith.”

“Oh that guy?” He looked surprised. “He’s dead? Oh man.”

“That’s what usually happens when you smash someone’s head in with a beater’s bat.” Ron narrowed his eyes at the man.

“I didn’t do anything!” Edwin stepped back. “He hit me! And I never pressed charges or nothing. I’m not interested in any of that.”

“You felt humiliated and you went back for a second round.” Ron reasoned. “It’s understandable.”

“Ron.” Hermione cautioned him.

“No way, man.” Edwin swallowed noisily. “Sure when I saw him, I thought about it, I admit it. But I didn’t do it. It’s not worth it. I have enough to do getting thumped by my trolls here.”

“And when did you see Ulysses Greensmith, Mr. Overton?” Hermione questioned.

“Erm... he came to see me at St Mungo’s. Said his girlfriend had left him.” Edwin shook his head as he tried to remember. “He gave me some money... a lot of money... said he wanted to live his life straight from then on. Told me he wanted to fix things and this was a start.”

“How much money was that, Mr. Overton?” Draco asked.

He squinted. “Three... three and half, I think?” 

“Thousand?” Ron asked.

“Yeah. Nearly four thousand galleons. I tried to give it back, but he wasn’t having any of it.” He looked between the Aurors. “I got myself this suit. Protects me at work, you know.”

Hermione smiled at him. “And you haven’t seen him since?”

“Merlin, no. We run in very different circles.” He looked back over his shoulder as another roar bellowed up. “Listen, I don’t want any trouble. We dealt with it like wizards and moved on. That’s all there was to it, I promise.”

“Thank you, Mr. Overton. We’ll let you get back to your work.” Hermione said.

“No problem.” He nodded. “I’d help if I could, but that really is all there was to it.”

“We understand. Thank you for your time.”

He nodded once more and turned back into the cave, tapping the wall with his wand and disappearing through the entrance as it closed up behind him.

“Well, we’ve found the money then.” Hermione turned to her companions.

“That really is a nice suit.” Ron glanced after him, a look of longing in his eyes.

“Romanion Longhorn wouldn’t suit your line of work, Weasley.” Draco commented, withdrawing his wand and readying to apparate. “Peruvian Vipertooth would definitely suit you better. Although it would clash horribly with your complexion.”

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium Pitch_

\---

Maxie Foxwood circled the hoops for the seventh time that night, weaving in and out, practicing her turns and slaloms. She was sure she could practice for thousands of hours and still never feel prepared enough for the upcoming match. Her heart ached at the thought that Uly wouldn’t be there to watch her play. For all her bluster and attitude, she had been broken-hearted to hear of his death. The loss of the only real father figure in her life was a heavy blow to take, and now with this much pressure and responsibility mounted on her...

A movement in the shadows of the stands caught her eye. She was no Seeker, but her reflexes were sharp and her eyesight sharper still. She circled once more and flew down towards the seats, stopping when she found herself hovering a row in front of a familiar face.

“Working late, are you Maxie?” The gravelly voice slithered out from the shadows.

“I have training to do and you’re distracting me, Featherstone.”

He reached out, quicker than she was expecting, and took hold of the end of her broom, keeping her firmly in place. “You don’t deserve that spot, you little runt.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She bluffed.

“You play this game and you’ll never fly again, mark my words, Foxwood.”

She rolled her eyes, acting much braver than she was feeling. “Fuck off Cyrus.”

“Most real professionals know, they get it.” He leaned forward, a vicious glint in his eye.

“Yeah, well I don’t have a choice.” She jerked her broom backwards, wanting to get away, but he held firm.

“Look what happened to Greensmith!” He hissed, spittle flying. “You want to end up like him?”

“Take your hands off her broom.” Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shadows and Maxie’s stomach flipped. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so relieved and filled with dread at the same time. “You’re a nasty piece of work aren’t you? I knew that from the moment I met you, but I didn’t suspect you’d stoop so low to threatening young witches.”

Featherstone turned on him, releasing the broom as Maxie dropped nimbly to her feet. “I’ve had enough of you Malfoy. I know who you are, what you’re like. What you did.” He revealed his wand in hand and trained it on the blonde man before him.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Draco nodded over Featherstone’s shoulder. “Watch yourself, Wanderer.”

“Drop the wand! Hands where I can see them!” The stadium was suddenly flooded with light as Hermione Granger and a team of Aurors made their way across the seats to Featherstone, who slowly lowered his wand.

Draco stepped down towards Maxie. “Are you ok?”

She nodded. “How’d you know we’d be here?”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Draco smiled as she frowned at him. “It’s all in the eye contact.”

“Don’t encourage her, Malfoy.” Hermione called over from where she had Cyrus Featherstone on the ground, cuffing his wrists. “And don’t listen to him, Maxie. He’s a bad influence.”


	6. Chapter 6

\---

_DMLE Dragonpen_

\---

“Morning all.” Draco greeted the team of Aurors bustling about the dragonpen as he sauntered in. He popped his head into Hermione’s office and, seeing her desk empty, headed straight for Potter’s.

He elbowed open the door without waiting for invitation and took a seat next to Granger as he handed her a coffee. 

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, the shadows under her eyes very telling that she definitely needed the caffeine boost today.

“Hey, where’s mine?” Harry Potter asked, blinking at Malfoy owlishly from behind his desk, and sporting a rather unusual purple patterned jacket.

“Good morning to you too, Potter. And what a sight that blazer that is for sore eyes.”

“Ginny’s idea.” Harry grumbled, looking down at it. “It’s hard to say no to her when she’s so...”

“Pregnant?” Draco offered.

Harry cast a wide-eyed glance at Hermione. “I don’t think I’m allowed to say that.”

Draco chuckled as Hermione suppressed a grin. “What have I missed?”

“Not much.” Hermione responded, sipping at the cappuccino he’d handed her. “Featherstone spent the night in the cell and was very unhappy about it. Claims that he’ll be lodging a complaint when he’s freed.”

“We await that form with baited breath.” Harry nodded, almost believably.

“He has a history of a nasty temper since his exit from Quidditch. He’s been caught up twice for assault in the past, and almost a third time on the officer who brought him breakfast this morning.”

“This interview will be a delight.” Hermione groaned.

“He’s still very into Quidditch, so I’m sure you two will get along fine.” Draco smirked.

“No doubt.” Hermione shut her eyes for a moment, savouring her coffee, before sitting bolt upright, her eyes flying open. “Wait, I have an idea.”

\---

_DMLE Interview Room_

\---

Hermione set the file down on the table in front of Cyrus Featherstone, who had fixed her with a death-glare the moment she walked in. She sifted through the paperwork in front of her, flipping through pages, enjoy the tension rising as she made him wait.

“Well?” He demanded. “Are we starting this?”

She didn’t look up. “Ulysses Greensmith had his head bashed in. Did you have something to do with that?”

He scoffed. “This is all just a big misunderstanding. I was just giving Maxie some friendly advice.”

Hermione sat back in the hard chair of the interview room, meeting his hard gaze with her own. “Advice not to play for the Arrows? Why would you care?”

“I have many interests in my life. I have to, now that I can’t fly.”

“And one of those interests is hating Ulysses Greensmith.” She tapped the page in front of her. “We know he was held responsible for the crash that caused your injuries.”

Cyrus slammed his hands down on the table. “He did it on _purpose_. I know he did.”

Hermione paused for a long moment as he settled himself. “If someone did that to me, do you know what I’d do?”

“Take an exam?” He sneered. “Save the world?”

She raised an eyebrow. She was used to this attitude from suspects. “I’d kill him.”

“Of course you would.” He tutted. “Is there anything else or are we done here?”

Hermione smiled. “One more thing.”

The door opened and a balding, middle-aged man wearing a jazzy violet jacket entered, placing a heavy briefcase on the table.

“Mr. Featherstone, I’m from the Quidditch Regulation Board.”

Cyrus’ eyes widened as he swallowed audibly. “What’s this?”

“Standard protocol.” Hermione told him. “We contact the QRD any time we have dealings with anyone involved in Quidditch.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We’ve had information you’ve been selling inside information to bettors.” The man said. “Either that information is genuine, which is illegal, or it’s false and you’ve been defrauding people. Which is also illegal. Either way, we’ll be launching a full investigation which will mean you’re being handed a restraining order from all Quidditch stadiums and training grounds, professional to amateur.”

Cyrus gaped at them both. “But this game is my life!”

“However, Ms Granger has requested that we treat you with leniency, depending on your compliance with this murder investigation.” The man continued.

“Ok. Whatever you need. I’ll do it.” He whimpered, pleading with them. “Please don’t ban me.”

“Tell me how you’re involved in this, Mr. Featherstone.” Hermione leaned forwards, enjoying having her suspect over a barrel, for now.

“Ok, look. I didn’t kill Greensmith. I just threatened him. And Foxwood.”

“And who asked you to do that, Mr. Featherstone?”

“Talking to people’s no crime.” He stalled.

“Who was it, Cyrus?”

He looked back and forth between them, licked his lips and took a shaky breath. “Brisco Buckley. He made me do it. The Manager of the Wimbourne Wasps.”

\---

_Harry Potter’s Office, DMLE Dragonpen_

\---

“And my eyebrows, don’t forget my eyebrows, Hermione.” Harry nagged as he sat on the edge of his desk while Hermione waved her wand back and forth in front of his face, righting his familiar features from how they’d been transfigured a few minutes before the interrogation. “My eyes look weird without them.”

“Good work, Mr. Quidditch Regulation Board. Thank you.” She smiled down at Harry. “Cyrus Featherstone should be much more compliant from now on.

“Any time.” He grinned. “Always happy to help.”

“And that should do it. Check in the mirror and let me know if I’ve missed anything.” She put her wand away. “Although the charm we used will wear off in an hour or two, so you’ll be back to normal by the time you get home.”

“Brilliant. Thanks, Hermione.” He returned his glasses to their usual resting place on his nose and sent a knowing look her way. “So you and Malfoy make a good team...”

“Oh Harry, not you too.”

“What?” Harry’s look of innocence was far too phoney to be believable. 

“Ron seems to be quite keen on setting me up with him.” She sighed, looking out into the dragonpen, from the floor-to-ceiling windows of Harry’s office.

Harry stepped up behind her. “We just want to see you happy, Hermione.”

“I’m happy working.”

“I know.” He accepted. “But I also know you.”

“Stop being wise.” She ducked her head and pushed his shoulder with her own.

“He’s an arse. But we can all see how well you get on.”

“We work well together.” Hermione sighed. “Nothing should jeopardise that.” 

“You don’t know that it would.”

Hermione gave him a look. 

Harry laughed. “Alright, alright. But it might be fun. For you.” He clarified. “Not for us.”

“We’re talking like we have any idea he’s interested in me, anyway.” She looked across at the blonde wizard getting up from his desk and walking around the pen. “I’m not fussed, Harry, really. I’m focussed on the case. That’s what’s most important right now.”

\---

_DMLE Dragonpen_

\---

“Weasley, where is everyone?” Draco asked, leaning over a desk cubicle divider and glancing around the quiet pen.

“Annual flying carpet conference. It’s a popular event for the DMLE.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Out working cases, what do you think?”

“Perfect. Want to have some fun?”

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium_

\---

“Back again, Malfoy? I’d think you were a fan.” Maxie called as she looped lazily above the stands on her broom.

“Couldn’t pay me to keep away from the beautiful game.” Draco called back to her as she landed and jogged up to them. “Maxie, I’d like to introduce you to Ron Weasley. Ron, this is Maxie, the Appleby’s newest keeper.”

“Hi, Maxie, nice to-”

“Oh Merlin, Morgana and Circe!” She interrupted. “Ron Weasley! I have your Chocolate Frog card!”

Ron glanced over at Malfoy, his puzzled expression giving way to a grin as he shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Maxie.”

“Ron used to play Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts.” Draco said, nodding at Ron in encouragement, although little was needed.

“You did!” She was almost jumping with excitement. “You joined the team in your sixth year and you had a song written about you and everything.”

“Er, yeah. That’s right.” Ron ran a hand through his hair. “It was actually Malfoy who...”

“Hey, Maxie, do you think we could get Ron up on a broom, shoot a few Quaffles?” Draco cut him off.

“Oh, erm.” She stopped bouncing and looked about the pitch. “I don’t know about that.”

“Maxie, we’re Aurors. We know how to keep safe.” Draco smiled, although Ron couldn’t help but sense an ulterior motive.

“I guess.” Maxie agreed, still sounding unconvinced.

“Excellent.” Draco clapped his hands together. “Which way to the broom store?”

“This way, then.” She gestured down towards the player’s changing rooms. “We mostly have Cleansweeps for spares and practice. I fly a Nimbus 2500. You used to fly a Cleansweep Eleven at Hogwarts didn’t you? I collect replicas of all the classics. My favourite’s the Moontrimmer. Pretty rare and they didn’t stay in production long, but the height on them was incredible.”

“That’s cool.” Ron looked back at Malfoy with panic in his eyes as the teenager led him away.

Draco smiled and waved as he watched them go. “Be safe, King Weasley!”  


\---

_DMLE Interview Room_

\---

“Please just answer the question, Mr Buckley.” Hermione asked again, sitting across from the lecherous Wasps manager. She hadn’t expected this to be easy, but this man was another level of difficult.

“Look, I’m a businessman, little Miss. Quidditch is a just a fun little hobby for me.”

“Right.” She scanned the notes in front of her. “You’re a developer.”

“Absolutely right, doll.”

“And you’d like to get your hands on Tabitha Bramble’s stadium.”

“I mean, sure. I wanna beat her at this game and then take her out for dinner.” Brisco laughed heartily. “Who wouldn’t? Have you seen the rack on that?”

Hermione suppressed a shudder. She was here to get answers, and beating sense and decency into him wouldn’t help with that right now. “So you want to redevelop the grounds, Mr. Brisco. But Tabitha won’t budge, no matter how much money you throw at her, will she?”

“Now, now, doll, let’s not make assumptions here.” He waved a meaty hand. “There was talk at one point, but nothing more.”

“Talk that could lead to millions of Galleons for you, I understand. So I’m sure you wouldn’t mind seeing her go out of business. And with players refusing to fly for her, no team means no games. No games means no money and the Arrows have suddenly gone bust.” She leant back in her seat, confident in her evaluation. “That’s why you paid Cyrus Featherstone to intimidate players who Tabitha was interested in, isn’t it, Mr Buckley?”

Brisco chuckled again and shook his head. “Ok, doll, let’s say Featherstone did tell players that they’d never play for another professional side again if they flew for the Arrows. So what? It’s true. Tabitha is ruining this game. But no laws have been broken.”

“Ulysses Greensmith was responsible for the crash that retired Cyrus Featherstone, Mr Buckley. Did you know that? Cyrus was angry about it. Very angry. And you sent an angry man to deal with the person he hated. How did you think that would turn out?”

Brisco paled, the humour draining from his eyes. “I think I want to speak to a Wizengamot representative.”  


\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium_

\---

Ron Weasley’s yells of excitement echoed around the Appleby Arrows Stadium pitch as Draco watched him toss Quaffles back and forth with Maxie, from pitch-side seats. The Auror swooped around the hoops once more before coming in to land deftly in front of Malfoy.

“That was serious fun!” He crowed as he paced over to where Malfoy was sat. “Wind in you hair as you fly round the hoops. Nothing like it!”

“Your hair shows it. It’s all... upright.” Draco commented, eyeing Ron’s new look.

“Not all of us stock a lifetime’s supply of SleekEezy to smother ourselves in, Malfoy.” 

“That was fourteen years ago. I was a kid!”

“I will treasure that in a penseive forever.” Ron laughed before pointing to the seats beside him. “What’s that?”

“This, my dear Weasley, is a vintage Comet. It hangs in Tabitha Bramble’s office.”

“Merlin, are you kidding? Does it even fly?” Ron dropped the broom he was holding and knelt in front of the classic.

“Oh it’s no problem. I know brooms, and this one’s fine.” Draco patted the tail twigs adoringly.

Ron looked up at him skeptically. “Are you... Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded eagerly. “Give it a try.”

Ron stepped back and surveyed him with narrowed eyes. “Malfoy, I didn’t live through a war just for you to try to off me with a dodgy broom.”

“Hermione would kill me slowly, I wouldn’t risk it.” Draco smirked.

Ron raised an eyebrow. “ _Hermione_ , huh?”

“Just try the broom.”

“Sure thing.”

Ron picked up broom reverently and held it out to let it hover. With one last glance at Malfoy he seated himself and kicked off smoothly. He looped high above the pitch before sliding in to an easy dive.

“Wow! I’ve never flown anything like it.” He called over as he weaved around. “It’s so easy to steer. It’s effortless!”

“Hey!” They both turned to look over as Maxie sprinted across towards them from where she’d landed. “Woah, hey, get off that broom!”

“Oh, uh...” Ron faltered as the broom dipped.

“Get off! It’s dangerous! It’s not regulation!” She shouted. “Are you trying to get me fired the day before the game?!”

“No, no, of course not. I’m just...” Ron dismounted before he came fully in to land.

“Relax, Maxie,” Draco called to her. “It’s ok. No harm done.”

“Merlin, Tabitha’s going to be so mad with me. I can’t believe you two. Especially you, Mr. Weasley.” She folded her arms and scowled at them both. “Please, you have to leave now.”

Ron handed the broom to her. “Sorry, Maxie. Good luck at the game.”

“You know what they say,” Draco advised her, “don’t meet your heroes.

Maxie huffed and stomped away from them, taking the broom with her.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked as they exited the stadium.

“Clarity, dear Ronald. Clarity.”


	7. Chapter 7

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium_

\---

“Hermione Granger, get your butt over here!” The dulcet tones of Ginny Potter rang out over the mass of Quidditch fans heading in to the Appleby Arrows Stadium. Hermione scanned the crowd and spotted the redhead waving frantically while trying to keep her balance.

Hermione made her way over to her friend, narrowly avoiding being taken out by some large banners, as Harry joined them holding a stack of steaming Pumpkin Pasties. “I’m here, Gin, I’ve got you.” He tenderly held his very pregnant wife by the waist as she eagerly unwrapped one and devoured it before greeting Hermione.

“Sorry ‘Mione,” she apologised around a mouthful, “Cravings. Can’t get enough of these!”

Hermione grinned and kissed her friends on the cheek, brushing away pastry as she did so. “All set for today then?”

Harry nodded, still watching Ginny scarfing down the food. “There’s a tonne of Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement Patrol put on especially for today, so our team are blending in well.”

“I noticed a DMLE crowd as I came in. So how did you get out of it?” Hermione asked him.

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d let him miss this?” Ginny laughed before handing off the paper wrapping to her husband and launching into another pasty. “Game of the year!”

Harry gave her a wry grin as they joined the long queues making their way through the entrance.

“Are bag checks really necessary?” Hermione grumbled. “I can’t imagine it’s that bad.”

“Unfortunately so. Too much tension between the sides.”

“Well. they are playing the Wasps after all.” Ginny added, after finishing her mouthful. “Long-standing rivalry. You think Gryffindor and Slytherin were bad? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Yeah Hermione, it’s the game of the year.” Ron quipped as he found them in the crowd, armed with more pasties. “Gin, I’ve got you a supply.”

“Already stocked up, mate.” Harry told him, as Ginny added that more would always be useful.

Ron rolled his eyes but grinned at them both. “Ok, we’ll get you two seated up in the Reporter’s Box before we head off to pitch-side. Hermione, the team are fully briefed on what to expect. Have you seen Malfoy around yet?”

“Not just yet, but he won’t be hard to spot.”

“Ah, Weasley, already found the pies, I see.” Draco Malfoy greeted them as they eventually moved past the bag-check stations.

A chorus of ‘Hey!’s went up from the Weasley siblings, as they both held pasties half-way to their mouths.

“Don’t push it, Draco.” Hermione admonished.

Ginny elbowed her as they moved through the building. “ _‘Draco’_ , huh?” She winked.

Hermione cleared her throat, ignoring her friend as they reached the entrance to the Box and prepared to go their separate ways.

“Hermione, keep me updated as much as possible please. If there’s trouble, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Harry told her.

“Like hell you will.” Ginny muttered as he passed her another paper-wrapped pasty.

Hermione looked around at her team as more Aurors joined them. “Ok, everyone in positions please. Malfoy, I want you in eyesight at all times.”

“I bet she does.” Ginny murmured again, grinning at her friend over her food.

“Ginny, please, don’t be so facetious.” Hermione replied as the team moved out, Draco predictably wandering off in a different direction than planned.

“Just calling it like I see it, Hermione.”

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium, Player Changing Rooms_

\---  


Tabitha Bramble paced back and forth in front of her team. She’d given a recap of prospective plays already, and given them an updated account of reported weaknesses on the opposing team. There was little more she could do for them, although she wished to give them everything.

“Ok everyone. A good clean game please. They’ll be expecting tricks and cheats, and will be throwing the same right at you. You’re better than this. And we’re better than them.” She looked over to her youngest player, “Foxwood, are you ready for this?”

“Yes ma’am. Never been more ready.” Maxie seemed equal parts nervous and confident, which was all Tabitha could have hoped for. Nerves would give her energy.

“Good. Billinghurst, remember to cover Hoadley on your left as you come around after your third pass. It’s your blindspot, so keep it in mind. Ok, team. I’m proud of you all. Let’s make this game a-”

“ _You goddamn meddling bitch!_ ” The door to the players rooms flew open as Brisco Buckley stormed in, snarling and spitting.

“Buckley, get out of here.” Tabitha ordered, signalling to the Security Wizards stationed by the doors. “I want this man out. Don’t let him near my players.”

“I know you’re behind that Auror Harassment, Tabitha.” He roared. “You’re just trying to put us off our game!”

“Get him out!” Tabitha had her wand out, ready to cast as many protective and offensive charms as needed.

“I won’t be intimidated by this! Wasps will win and I’ll own your stadium by tomorrow!” Brisco screamed as he was forcefully manhandled through the doorway at wand-point. “Mark my words, Bramble! _I will own this place_!”

The Security team bundled him out of the door and shut it firmly in his face, with a warning that they wouldn’t treat him so kindly next time.

“Unless she wins today, of course.”

Brisco Buckley straightened his tie and smoothed down his suit jacket before turning to face Draco Malfoy, leaning nonchalantly against the corridor wall outside the changing rooms.

“I’m sure I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Malfoy.” Straightening his cuffs, he turned to leave, and was only a little frustrated to find Malfoy keeping pace with him.

“Well, if she wins today, she’ll have more than enough to pay off the Arrows’ debts, and stillbe able to renovate at least half the stadium. Which I can assure you, is in definite need of it.”

“There’s no way she can win. I know that, and you know that. Hell, even the bookies are offering 100 to 1 on an Arrows victory.”

“I know, great odds isn’t it? I’ve got 2000 Galleons on the Arrows myself.” Draco was pleased to find this was enough to stop Buckley dead in his tracks.

The Wimbourne Wasps Manager eyed him up and down for a long moment. “You’re a fool, Mr. Malfoy. A rich, damned fool.”

“And I’ll be richer still. Good day to you, Buckley.”

\---

_Appleby Arrows Stadium, Pitch-side stands_

\---

Draco joined the loud cheer that echoed up around half the stadium as Maxie executed a perfect Sloth-Grip Roll and made a spectacular save. He would challenge anyone in the stadium to admit they weren’t impressed by her opening debut on the team.

“Mr. Malfoy? Might I have a have a word?” Tabitha rushed up to him, slightly out of breath, as he kept his eyes fixed on the game. “ _Mr. Malfoy?_ ”

“Oh yes, absolutely. Fascinating game, isn’t it? Maxie’s really earning her place.” He picked at the now-cold pasty in his hand, flicking some out to a passing gull.

“Yes, yes, a great game.” She gnawed on her thumb nervously, not quite watching the game.

“You seem distracted, Tabitha. Anything I can help with?” He asked, as a Seeker flew past at high speed. Draco hadn’t yet spotted the Snitch, so was reasonably sure the player was fooling her opponent.

“I have to ask, Mr. Malfoy...” Tabitha looked up, her focus solely on him now. “Did you really bet all that money on my team?”

“Absolutely, Ms Bramble. I’ve always been an Arrows man myself.”

She stared at him, panic flitting across her face. “But a bet like that will shorten the odds.”

“Mmm, possibly. And how much did you bet?” He winked at her.

She swallowed. “Every knut I have.”

“You must be confident then.” He turned his attention back to the game but kept a steady watch on her out of the corner of his eye.

“Desperate.”

“Not to worry.” Draco leaned over and patted her shoulder. “You’ll win. I can feel it.”

“You can’t possibly be so sure.”

Draco tapped the side of his nose and winked at her once again. “Maybe I can be.”

“No. No, you can’t.” She looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes, even as she came around to a slow realisation. “You couldn’t be. Could you?”

“Aha. Let’s keep this between us, but there may have been a little switcheroo.” He grinned and went back to his pasty. “Ooh, bludger!”

But rather than pay attention to the unfortunate Chaser that had just gone down with the hit, Tabitha gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You said it yourself, they’re practically identical.”

“No. You couldn’t have. _You didn’t_.”

“I swapped Maxie’s Nimbus for your vintage Comet. No one will ever know.” A roar went up from the crowd as the players soared back into the air, the Chaser evidently fine once again. A whistle blew and the game recommenced. 

“You _arsehole_.” Tabitha breathed, stepping close towards him and glancing around to make sure they weren’t overhead. “You absolute _bastard_.”

“Hm? I must say, Griswald is on fine form with the Beater’s bat today.”

“ _How could you do this to me!”_ She hissed from between clenched teeth.

“Just a friendly hand, Tabitha.”

“I already switched them! I did it this morning! You’ve just switched them back!”

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow and turned fully to face her.

“We’ll never win now! After all my work on Maxie!” She covered her eyes as Draco stepped in close.

“And that’s how Ulysses ended up dead, isn’t it? He refused to take part in your little scheme so you killed him, and you coerced poor Maxie Foxwood into taking his place.”

“How do you...” Tabitha looked up at him for a brief moment. And ran.

“That’s a confession right?” Draco called over to Hermione as she came rushing down the steps past him. “Go get ‘em, cowgirl!”

Hermione raced down the steps of the tower of seats, simultaneously cursing and praising the anti-apparition wards of the Stadium. Keeping a close eye on Tabitha as she flew downwards ahead of her, Hermione did her best to alert nearby Aurors over the volume of the crowds increasing to a fever pitch as the game came down to the last few minutes.

“Tabitha, stop!” Hermione skidded around a corner as Ron came barrelling from a side corridor.

“She’s making a break for the exit.” He shouted as they ran. “We have to stop her before she gets clear of the wards!”

A screech and thump from the entrance foyer sounded from up ahead as they raced forwards, wands drawn.

“ _Ginny?_ ” Ron squawked as they both came to an abrupt stop at the sight of a thoroughly rotund and very pleased Ginny Weasley sat atop an entirely furious Tabitha Bramble in the middle of the polished floor.

“That’s the other problem with being so pregnant.” She sighed. “I have to pee _all the damn time_. Missed the last few minutes of the game.”

“Ginny Weasley, you are a blessing to this world.” Hermione stepped forward to embrace her friend, keeping her wand trained on the witch on the floor.

“It’s only a leg-locker, but it’ll keep her down for a little while longer.” Ginny beamed. “Harry filled me in on the case, and she came tearing out past me. Figured she’d probably been caught so I threw a curse at her just in case, before she could apparate out of here.” She frowned down at Tabitha. “ _And_ she made me drop my pasty.”

An explosion of sound thundered around the stadium, shaking the windows, as Harry Potter jumped down the last few steps of the staircase up to the Reporters’ Box. “They won, Ginny! The Arrows won!”

“We won?” Tabitha squeaked from where she was being cuffed by a pair of Aurors. “My team won?”

“Certainly seems that way, Ms Bramble.” Hermione turned to her. “It seems unfortunate that you won’t be around to see the victory.”

“Ah, Tabitha.” Draco strolled into the foyer. “My congratulations to you after all.”

“But... but you switched the brooms.” She stared wide-eyed. “How could we win when you switched the brooms back?”

“Oh come now.” Draco chuckled. Hermione was sure the sound would grate on her much more if he wasn’t on their side. “I only said that. My felicitations - your vintage Comet won the game indeed.”

Cheers continued to resound as the stadium doors opened and Maxie and the team were swept in on the shoulders of the crowd. 

“Tabitha!” She yelled, hoisting the cup overhead. “Tabitha, we won!”

“We won.” Tabitha’s murmuring was lost in the barrage of sound. “My Arrows won.”

\---

_DMLE Dragonpen_

\---

Hermione walked into the dragonpen with coffees in hand, having successfully seen to the incarceration of Tabitha Bramble while she awaited trial.

“Ah, Hermione.” Harry called to her as she made he way over to his office. “Paperwork’s almost done, we just need a couple of your signatures and everything will be sent down for processing.”

“Excellent work team.” She commended the Aurors around her.

Ron heaved up a box off the desk as the others dispersed back to their tasks. “I need to get these down to Evidence. Great case and an event better result.”

“Are you talking about the murder charge or the Quidditch score?” She pointed to the Beater’s bat wrapped in plastic sticking out from the box. “Is that the murder weapon?”

“Yep.” Ron nodded. “It was on display in Tabitha’s office. It’s covered in Greensmith’s blood and Bramble’s fingerprints.”

“And Maxie Foxwood’s testimony will help put Bramble away for a long time. She told Maxie she’d end up dead like Greensmith if she didn’t go along with it.” Harry added.

“Seems about right.” Draco slipped in beside Hermione as she handed him a steaming cup. “Josephine Darknoll is here collecting Greensmith’s possessions. I just passed her out in the lobby.”

Hermione stepped closer to Ron’s box of evidence and lifted out a small bag. “This wasn’t part of the investigation in the end.”

“Hm. No it wasn’t. Must have been left over from when we interviewed her.” Harry said, examining it.

Hermione held it gently for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

\---

_Ministry of Magic Atrium_

\---

“Miss Darknoll?” Hermione called as she rounded the fountain and spotted the witch heading for the fireplaces.

Josephine turned to her, eyes still swimming as she held Ulysses’ belongings close to her chest. “Ms Granger. Thank you for solving the case. I can never thank you enough for finding out what happened to him.”

Hermione smiled gently at her. “I’ve just had this signed off by our Evidence office. It’s not part of the case anymore, and Ulysses wanted to give it to you.” She reached between them and offered the weeping woman a small bag with a deep red box inside. “I think you should have it.” 

“Oh, Ms Granger.” Josephine tenderly opened the box with the sparkling ring set inside.“You know, I think we’d have been ok. If we’d had time, we could have made it work. It was meant to be, I just know it.” She took a shaky breath and slipped the ring box into her handbag. “Thank you again, Ms. Granger.”

“Good luck, Jospehine.” Hermione watched her walk to the fireplaces and Floo away.

“Poor girl. It would never have worked.” Draco mused as he joined Hermione by the Atrium lifts. 

“Maybe. But she thinks it was meant to be. Maybe it was. Maybe that’s enough.”

“I’m just being realistic.”

“No, you’re being cynical.” Hermione stepped in past the golden grill. “People said the same thing about Ron and I, you know.”

“And look how that turned out.” Draco pressed the DMLE button and ducked as a few memos zoomed in overhead.

Hermione sighed. “Don’t you believe in love, Draco Malfoy?”

“Of course I do.” He replied. “How else could Harry have defeated You-Know-Who?”

“A well-timed _Expelliarmus_?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Love is real, Hermione Granger. I believe it so. Therefore it must be.”

“Awful cocky of you, Mr. Malfoy.”

“It’s what I do best.” He smirked.

“So, seeing as you won at the races, does this mean coffee’s on you?”

“Oh, I didn’t win. Bets were thrown out.”

“But you still had 2000 galleons to make the bet.” She reminded him.

“Then I guess dinner’s on me.”

“Didn’t I say coffee?” Hermione replied as the lift came to a steady stop and the gates opened into the DMLE lobby.

Draco turned to her, blocking her path as they stepped into the corridor. “I think it’s about time I treated you, Ms Granger.”

Hermione stopped short, glancing around them, entirely unwilling to admit that her heartbeat had picked up rather dramatically. “Draco, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Only if we can bring Weasley along.” He grinned. “He deserves it after that spectacular ride on the Comet.

Hermione did her utmost to hide her creeping disappointment and the blush making it’s way up her neck. _How could she have got it so wrong?_ “Oh right. Of course. Sure. I’ll go let him know.”

Draco caught her hand as she stepped around him towards the dragonpen, laughter sparkling in his eyes. “Hermione Granger, would you do me the great honour of joining me at dinner? No Weasleys or Potters invited, just the two of us. A real date.”

She stared up at him for a long moment. His stormy eyes and long lashes were really quite disarming this close up.

“If we make it my place, I’ll even show you just how good a cook I am, now that I don’t have any house elves.” His kind smirk was doing alarming things to her temperature.

She swatted at his chest and continued down the corridor. “Malfoy, you tease.”

“Could I possibly be any other way?” He called after her. “Friday at eight then.”

She threw one last look over her shoulder as she turned into her office. “Fine. A date it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This was an absolute pleasure to write, even though the research into the Quidditch league and players took quite some time! 
> 
> I would dearly love to know your thoughts and feedback on this, and you can catch the first installment of the Investigative Auror Mysteries on AO3 and FF.net, amongst my other works.
> 
> Third installment and other fics coming soon!


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